Footsteps
by Akal-Saris
Summary: A response to the RKRC March 2002 challenge. A short vignette on Hiko Seijuro's thoughts at the end of episode 43.


1 Footsteps  
  
By: Akal-Saris. Email: Akal_Saris@yahoo.com  
  
I don't own or profit from RK. This was written in response to a challenge from the RKRC. This is my 1st serious Kenshin fiction. Please R&R, I love getting responses! (Includes slight references to 'Lessons', I sure hope Tae-san won't mind!)  
  
  
  
I look over my surroundings one last time. The muddy ground is a good reflection of my feelings. The roar of the waterfall sounds faintly in my ears, and comforts me. It was fitting I should hear it now. For over twelve years, we had trained together to that roar. Now it would end in death.  
  
He walked slowly towards me. I held hope until he looked up at me. Molten eyes captured me. I forced myself to look away from the monster I had created.  
  
The glare of the hitokiri remained fixed on me. I glared back. Nobody – let alone my baka deshi – gets the best of Hiko Seijuro in a glaring contest.  
  
"Have you found what you were searching for?" I know the words are useless: he is as blind as ever.  
  
"No." This is it then. There is no way around this. I bow my head so he won't see the angry tears forming.  
  
"I was going to teach you the succession technique. But the way you are now, it would be better to put you out of your misery." I look up, anger overcoming grief, and see the shock on his face.  
  
"Are you ready…Kenshin?" I stalk towards him, letting my anger sound in the beat of my footsteps.  
  
He's scared, good. If he suspected how torn I was, the battle would be over before it began. I see him adjust his stance.  
  
'One step. Two steps.'  
  
I remember that stance. It was the first I taught him. He spent the entire day drawing his sword while I drank sake and laughed. Then he spent the night crying at nightmares, and I drank sake as I whispered to him.  
  
'Three and four. The pace increases.'  
  
Those eyes. Angry as when he left me. When he left my mountain to fight for his ideals, and watched as they shattered one at a time.  
  
'Six, seven, eight steps. Ready the sword and quicken the tempo.'  
  
A gasp escaped his lips. I felt my heart break at the memories.  
  
His confused gasp when I explained the facts of life. His smile when I praised him, and his scowl when I teased him. His gasp when I explained the Ryu Sho Sen. His groans at my obi jokes.  
  
The distraught boy I molded into a strong young man. And then threw to the wolves.  
  
'Nine, ten, eleven. One step, and then I would attack. One last chance.'  
  
I remember my disgust when he returned after a decade for my assistance. I refused his plea. He was unworthy of the succession technique.  
  
My eyes search his pleadingly. Please, Kenshin, find yourself! Please! For God's sake, find your love of life! Don't make me do this! Don't make me kill my only family! Do it for your friends! Don't make the laughing girl with the sparkling eyes cry!  
  
His golden eyes stare blankly ahead at some vision only he can see. I feel a sudden burst of fury. If he will not listen to me, if he will not save himself for her, then he doesn't deserve the girl!  
  
"Die, you pitiful bastard!" I wanted to scream, "Live, you stupid fool!" but I couldn't. I couldn't use my sword to make him live. Life has taught me the bitter lesson that swordsmanship is merely a fancy word for murder.  
  
"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu…Kuzu Ryu Sen!" I attack. His head suddenly snaps up, and I see tears flow from his golden eyes. Reflected in them is the image of the laughing girl.  
  
I feel myself pulled towards him as he blocks, using the technique twelve years of training have forged until it comes instinctively. The power of the technique is a joy to me as I feel the sudden vacuum of air draw me forward. I have trained him well.  
  
I go to my death willingly. In his eyes I see his friends, I see the dead, I see myself. I see his will to live. A sad pain fills me as I realize I will never truly know the girl, will never see him propose to her, or the children they will have. A pity. I would have loved my grandchildren.  
  
The sword hits me, but I feel no pain. Nothing could disrupt the elation of the moment. My life slip away with each breath, but it is a good feeling. My head is bowed. Tears of joy flow. If he can overcome his inner demons after ten years of running from them, then he can overcome any Goddamned power-hungry assassins bent on ruling Japan.  
  
Ironic that Hiten Mitsurugi has taught me to live for myself, yet now I die for Kenshin.  
  
Ironic that Hiten Mitsurugi teaches that a sword is a weapon for killing, yet my sword has taught Kenshin to live.  
  
What sweet irony. I hear myself ramble, revealing the teaching of the succession technique. Inside, I laugh. What a ridiculously long name it has!  
  
I sway, and for an instant I see his eyes as I fall.  
  
I see the clouded purple of Shinta's eyes at the death of Sakura, Kasumi, and Akane.  
  
I see the burning golden of Battousai's eyes as he faced me last night.  
  
But clearest of all I see the bright purple of Kenshin's eyes as we trained together. Brightness reflected in the laughing blue eyes of the girl he lived for, and for whom I now die happily for.  
  
I feel the blood gathering in my mouth. It is as sweet as sake to me. The roar of the waterfall grows silent in my ears.  
  
The End. 


End file.
